Perfection Or Something Like It
by Noorlo
Summary: I know you too well to say you're perfect, but you'll see, my sweet love; you are perfect for me. - Inspired by Ron Pope's 'Perfect For Me' ONESHOT


**perfect for me**

''Thanks for the dinner, Castle.'' She says with a small smile on her lips.

They're sitting at his dinner table; two empty plates in front of them, only a little bit of wine left in her glass.

Although it sounds like something that will be followed by a 'goodnight' he hopes she won't leave. Not just yet.

And she doesn't get up and he doesn't really answer her with more than a smile similar to hers.

The radio is playing softly in the background and now she looks down at her hands, almost as if she is nervous. His smile doesn't fade.

She looks so beautiful in the low lights of the evening; only illuminated by a dimmed lamp standing in a corner of the room. Her curls seem to always fall perfectly in place around her face and on her shoulders. The string of the necklace she wears her mother's ring on disappears beneath the fabric of the beige shirt she's wearing. The colour compliments her eyes, and her soft pink lips; oh how he wants to kiss them again.

''Hm? Castle?'' When he looks up he sees her staring at him with her brow furrowed, smiling curiously. ''You still there?''

''-Oh! Sorry, I was just..-'' He stammers.

She simply smiles.

''You-uh want some more wine?'' He asks while picking up the bottle.

She nods and holds her glass while he pours in a bit of the liquid.

He can't hold back his smile when he thinks of how they got here. The road might have not been flawless but now…

It's ought to be a friendly, harmless dinner, but somewhere amongst the rest of their unspoken thoughts and unresolved feelings lies the knowledge that it _is_ indeed a date.

He'd confronted her, about the remembering and it had been a hell of a fight. Not a lot of yelling, but those are the worst kind of fights; the disappointment, the words that are softly spoken, almost only breathed out. Words so soft and harmless looking that you let him slip far past your defences and then they ruin you from the inside out.

Then it had been okay for a while, until he told her about her mom's case.

She's mostly been angry and hurt that he was willing to do this for her. Mostly offended by how little he valued his life and how high he valued hers. Because she didn't want to lose him.

Because-

She loved him.

She's admitted that earlier already, but somehow the words had vanished in between the 'how could you's and the 'I really thought you were different's.

And even during that short truce; he hadn't wanted to bring it up. Somehow it seemed like the anger and hurt were inevitably attached to the words and it seemed better- no, easier- not to bring them up again.

That didn't mean he never wanted to hear them again.

He loved her.

He _loves_ her.

''You wanna move this to the couch?'' He hears her say.

It's strange how even after four years he's still amazed by every single thing she does; everything she says.

She's changed in those four years; grew. It isn't like she wasn't as beautiful as she is now, but she changed. He still can't say how or what changed, because she's just as amazing as she was four years ago, only she seems more at peace with herself. More at peace with the world.

And maybe, maybe she was more at peace with him.

''Ye-yeah.'' He quickly nods as he grabs their glasses; hers too, before she can reach it and off course he doesn't get away with that without a glare. Because she is still tough and independent, but she lets him now. And that's what matters.

He sees her lips moving and hears something that vaguely sounds like a story about Esposito when he was younger, but he doesn't listen. Can't bring himself to listen. She's too distracting.

''I like this song.'' He suddenly says, before he's even realized that he's interrupting her story –not that he was listening to it.

She hums curiously, then grabs the remote and turns up the volume a little.

**Y****ou sit in the bathroom and you paint your toes****  
****I sit on the bed right now and I sing you a song****  
****It's not always easy, but somehow our love stays strong****  
****If I can make you happy, then this is where I belong****  
**

He doesn't know if he's supposed to say this, doesn't know if he will end up with a bruised eye of something completely else, but before he has even had time to think about it he has already spoken.

''Reminds me of you.'' He says.

She yanks her head in his direction and looks at him questioningly, but curiously and maybe a little adoringly.

''Yeah?'' She hums, before turning back to the music.

**And I'd just like to say****  
****I thank god that you're here with me****  
****And I know you too well to say that you're perfect****  
****But you'll see, oh my sweet love, you're perfect for me****  
**

When he looks over at her he sees she's blushing a little. She's looking down at her hands in her lap shyly. Maybe he shouldn't have said it. Maybe he's embarrassed her. They're not ready for this.

No. that's not true.

_She_ is not ready for this. He is. He totally is.

And deep inside he knows she is too.

**I know all your secrets, and you know all of mine**

He's so happy that both of their secrets are out now; happy they cleaned the air. Not that it will ever be picture-perfect blue; there'll always be some clouds, even a little rain every now and then. And maybe sometimes, there might be a thunderstorm. But he knows they'll get through all of that.

******You're always here to hold me up when I'm losing my mind****  
****I wish that I was stronger so that I had more to give****  
****I'll share everything I have and we'll find a way to live****  
**

He looks over at her; she's still silent, listening or thinking, he doesn't know. He's nervous. What if she thinks it's stupid? What if it makes her feel uncomfortable? What if she doesn't feel the same way about tonight? What if it really only is a friendly dinner?

**Even after all this time, nothing else I ever find****  
****In this whole wide world can shake me like you do****  
****Its true that something so sublime that there aren't words yet to describe****  
****The beauty of this life I've made with you****  
**

And when he looks at her; looking so beautiful next to him on his couch, he can not imagine that not more than a couple of weeks ago he had wanted to leave. How could he have left her behind? How could he even ever have been angry with her?

Now, again, nothing sounds better to him than solving crimes with her every day. If she was by his side, waking up at 3 AM to look at a chopped up person sounded like unicorns and butterflies. He's do anything for her, because maybe even without meaning to do it, she makes him feel things he's never felt before.

******And I'd just like to say****  
****I thank god that you're here with me****  
****And I know you too well to say you're perfect****  
****But you'll see, oh my sweet love; you're perfect for me**

''You- you think I'm perfect for you?'' She quietly asks, eyelids fluttering and god why does she look so innocent and young and… coy?

Does she even know what kind of an effect she had on him?

He shrugs awkwardly.

''Well. Yes. Kinda- I-I kinda think you're perfect for me, yes.'' He stumbles over his words and he's sure that by now he's turned beetle-red.

She doesn't reply and her face displays a whole array of emotions; none of which he actually recognizes in her. And that's weird, because he practically studies her, he's supposed to know her every emotion. And he thought he did, but apparently he didn't.

''I- Does- I'm sorry if that makes you um- uncomfortable.'' He adds, hoping to minimize the damage he just caused.

''No.'' She then says as she resolutely shakes her head. ''It doesn't. I think that's… kinda sweet. I actually.'' She pauses and looks like she's thinking really hard over her words. ''Actually I don't.''

Shit.

''-Actually I agree.'' She then says and a small smile plays up at her lips. ''Actually I think you're kinda perfect for me as well.'' She's blushing now.

She's blushing. Kate Beckett is blushing and god, so is he.

''I-'' he tried to form a response but can't think of anything right now other than 'oh my god she thinks I'm perfect for her, oh my god.'

******And I know you too well to say you're perfect****  
****But you'll see of my sweet love you're perfect**

He's silently stunned for a couple of seconds that feel like hours, then he finally wakes from the haze and moves closer towards her on the couch.

''I-um. I am just gonna kiss you right now, okay?'' He awkwardly says, but he can hit himself for that. _Why did you even ask that? How old are you Rick? Thirteen?_

But she just smiles and leans in; eyes closed and lips only slightly parted as they both listen to the sound of their breathing and the lyrics playing softly in the background.

******Oh my love I swear you're perfect****  
****Yes I promise, you're perfect for me****  
**

And then he kissed her. And it was awkward and it was sweet. It was full of promise and hope; it was an apology for the long wait, an apology for the bumpy road they took to get there, an apology for all that might come.

And it wasn't perfect, but it was perfect for them.**  
**


End file.
